Help
by Laeslaer
Summary: Tag to S7 Sam feels like he's fighting alone and he's tired. Hes tired of Lucifer, of the nightmares. He just wants to be done. But he still has a reason to fight, he just needs a little help. Oneshot, no pairing just brotherly stuff Warning: Sensitive theme


**Note from me: ****I got this idea when I was jumping between seasons. I watched from season 2 and then one from season 7 where Sam was hallucinating Lucifer, and I remembered the scene where he was cleaning his gun and what Lucifer said about it… and I got this idea.**

**Ookay I'm rambling on, you probably don't even care where I got the idea. So heres the story**

**O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O**

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, examining the silver gun in his hands. He's held it hundreds of times before, just not in a situation like this.

Lucifer sat across from him, grinning. "I think we both know you couldn't handle it. You're not strong enough. Never were. The cage taught you that much… I bet you're expecting peace after all this huh?" He shook his head back and laughed. The same way he would after he got Sam to scream.

Sam pushed the thoughts away, and ignored Lucifer. He'd get his silence soon enough. Just as soon as he went through with this. No more flashbacks, no more hallucinations, no more nightmares… The past few weeks were like hell all over again. Only now it never stopped. Lucifer had no one to fight with. In the cage, Michal and Lucifer would fight, or talk, or argue and would sometimes forget about him for a whole day if Sam was lucky. Then they'd resolve conflict or entertain themselves by ripping Sam apart again.

But now, Lucifer had nothing to do but torment Sam. Now, there were mind games and battles of wits. See who could last longer- Sam or the devil- and Sam was fighting alone… and he was tired. Tired in every way. Physically, mentally, emotionally… He was just _done._

He was done fighting. He was done closing his eyes and seeing the cage, of hearing his own screams echo in his dreams. He was done seeing Lucifer's amused smirk when he returned after Sam banished him with the scar.

Sam loaded the gun, ignoring Lucifer's cries of victory. It didn't matter if the devil had won. Sam would never hear him again.

The click of the gun seemed to echo in the silence of the empty room. It sounded much louder than it should've. It sounded _final_. The word held comfort. There was no arc-angel to heal Sam up so he could remember what it was like to be pain free just so Sam could anticipate whatever was coming next.

Not this time.

This time, Sam would be dead. Gone to the world.

Sam tightened his grip on the handle.

The rumble of the Impala filled the air, and Sam froze

_Dean_

Sam was never sure if he'd voiced Dean's name or if it was just in his mind.

Lucifer glanced at the window "What's _he_ doing back already?"

Sam clicked the gun again, pulling the bullet back, and turned the safety on. He pulled a hand across his face because he'd almost forgotten.

He wasn't alone. He's _never _been alone. He had a reason to fight, and Dean outweighed the battle. It wasn't even a question if it was worth it because _he was…_and Sam almost- he was _seconds _away…

Lucifer glared at Dean as he came in, making Sam smile.

He _really_ wasn't alone.

O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O

Dean pulled up to the motel, grabbing the food from whatever fast food restaurant he'd been at. Dean didn't remember the name. He only went there because there was no line and next to no traffic on the road by it. Yeah he was impatient. So what?

Dean walked in the door and immediately knew something was wrong.

Sam was sitting in silence, his back to Dean.

He remained silent as Dean closed the door. He dropped the bags on the table and moved to Sam, sitting across from him on the opposite bed.

"You okay Sam?" 

Dean's heart stopped, then slammed against his chest in blind panic and fear when he spotted the gun in Sam's hands.

"Sammy?" _Put that down. Put it down now Sam_

Because it was clear why Sam had the gun. Dean knew because Sam hadn't said a word. Sam wasn't even looking at Dean. He wondered what he was risking if he tackled Sam for it. Anything to get the gun away from Sam.

Because _this_ couldn't happen.

"I need your help." Sam said, finally looking at Dean. Sam held the gun out to him, and suddenly Dean didn't want it anymore.

Dean just looked at it, flashing back to years before. A promise Dean made, and the only one he knew he couldn't keep.

'…_**You have to kill me'**_

_No_

'_**Please Dean. Youre the only one who can do it.'**_

_No please Sam._

When it came to Sam, Dean wasn't above begging.

Sam grabbed his arm, placing the gun in his hands. The weight of it was horrible, and it almost slipped from his grip.

'_**I want you to do it.'**_

_But I can't Sammy. I can't do it-_

"I can't hold this. I need you to take it."

Dean blinked in surprise, and looked at the gun. This time, he saw that Sam had put the safety on. Sam wasn't giving up. He wasn't asking Dean to do anything but remove the opportunity to surrender. Pride and admiration welled up. That stubborn little-

"Sammy-" Dean almost laughed- he couldn't help it.

"If you hadn't come back when you did…."

Dean nodded, not wanting to think about what he would've found if he hadn't been so impatient to get food.

"Okay." Dean said, nodding. "Okay. I'll be in charge of weapons for awhile. I'll hold the guns. If we hunt, I'll be right next to you and I'll carry the guns after we kill the baddie."

Dean couldn't stop the smile that took over his face. "You can do this Sam."

Sam nodded and returned the smile and Dean knew he heard the unspoken words _Thank you. I'm proud of you, we can do this together._

But Dean Winchester didn't say stuff like that… out loud

Dean wandered over to the food, remembering why he left in the first place. Besides, Sam needed a distraction.

"I got you chicken. It smells pretty good. You should eat it before it gets cold. You know how nasty fast food is after a trip in the microwave."

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